Tears Of A Fallen Dove
by Pixie Moon Angel
Summary: Slash,be warned. This is a story about several young men trying to get through life. But there's a problem. They're gay. What if your choice in companions was frowned on by society? Find out what happens to these poor boys as they learn some life lessons.
1. Lesson 1: Big Boys Don't Cry

I own no one or nothing unless I tell you that I do. I own no characters from the book The Outsiders. They all belong to S. E. Hinton as far as I know. This is going to be a slash, so if you have a poblem with that, turn around right now and don't look back. All reviews are welcome, even ones showing disaproval. In doing this, you're exercising your rights to voice your opinion.   
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Lesson 1: Big Boys Don't Cry  
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"Yeah, I'm leaving," Steve yelled, slamming the door shut behind him. His father had kicked him out again. Why he let it bother him, he didn't know. His dad kicked him out just about once a week, then he would just tell him to come home and slip him a few dollars. It was always the same.  
  
Steve flopped down on the porch step and hung his head. This was eating away inside of him. It bugged him something awful. It would bug anyone to hear their birth father to tell them to get the hell out of his house.   
  
"STAY OFFA MY GODDAMNED PORCH," his father yelled from inside. "I DON'T NEED SOME LAZY BUM SULKIN AROUND HERE! GIT LOST!!!"  
  
Jerking up, Steve kicked the railing, knocking it severly crooked. He then hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and slouched off, headed towards the Curtis house, filled slightly with new hope. Atleast I'm wanted somewhere, he thought to himself.  
  
"Hey, Stevie-boy," Two-Bit called gleefully from his seat on the Curtis' front porch. "Why the long face?"  
  
"Got kicked out again," sighed the depressed teen. "Got anything to drink on ya?"  
  
Two-Bit smiled and patted his pants pockets. Then he simply shook his head.  
  
"Sorry, buddy."  
  
"It's all right, Two-Bit. I think I'm just gonna go lie down somewhere. Where is everyone?"  
  
"I dunno. Something about going shopping or something. Darry, Ponyboy and Johnny went. Soda's inside, though."  
  
Steve nodded and walked into the house. He flopped down on the couch and pulled a pillow over his face. Suddenly, he couldn't hold it back anymore. Burning, stinging tears started flowing from his eyes against his will.   
  
"Is that you, Steve," came a question from the direction of the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah, it's me," Steve replied, the pillow smothering his voice slightly.  
  
"Hey, buddy," Soda said, yanking the pillow off of Steve's face. He stopped in mid-motion of throwing the pillow back at Steve. His mouth was hanging open like he had been about to say something.  
  
"What? Why are you staring at me like that?"  
  
Steve sat up, looking at Soda questioningly. What was his problem?   
  
"H-have you been crying," Soda asked incrediously.  
  
"Of course not," Steve repiled, wiping his face on his shirttail. "I...I was running around outside. You know how hot it gets right now. It's just sweat. J-just sweat."  
  
"Okay." Soda smiled at his friend, reassuring him that no one would know about this.  
  
Both boys knew the truth. They both knew that it wasn't sweat glistening on Steve's face. But Soda knew that Steve never cried around people, so it was better left alone.   
  
Soda had heard Steve's father yelling at him. He knew what it was like for his buddy. Secretly, Soda hated Steve's father. How could he yell at Steve like that? What was wrong with him? Didn't he realize what a wonderful person Steve was? And how beautiful he was...  
  
Soda shook that last thought from his head. What's wrong with me, he thought frantically. That's gross! Don't think things like that, Soda!   
  
Smiling mischeviously, Soda raised the pillow once more. Then he swung it around, thumping Steve on the side of the head.  
  
"Good," Soda yelled, laughing as Steve grabbed another pillow and started fighting back.  
  
"What's good," yelled Steve.  
  
"That you aren't crying." Soda hit Steve in the stomach, knocking his friend backwards over the couch. "Big boys don't cry!"  
  
Steve smiled at Soda, hitting him in the chest. I'm lucky to have such a friend, he thought happily. Soda hadn't been the same since Sandy ran off with a member of Tim Shepard's gang. But now that it was four months after that, he was starting to come out of his shell.  
  
Darry, Ponyboy and Johnny walked in at that moment, their arms full of grocery bags. Soda had Steve pinned down on the floor and swung back to hit his friend, but the pillow flung backwards and hit Darry, knocking his bags from his hands.  
  
"All right you two," Darry said smiling and starting to pick things up. "Stop goofin' off and help us get everything out of the truck. See if you can get Two-Bit to help you."  
  
The two rolled their eyes at the thought of Two-Bit Mathews doing anything that even resembled work. But nonetheless, they jumped up and ran out the door to bring the remaining bags back in.  
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That's it for the first chapter. What did you think? Honestly now, how was it? I think it sucked, but that's just me. I never really like anything I do, but that's a normal writer thing. Keep in mind that this is my first slash, okay? Well, Later Days, Loyal Readers! Review! 


	2. Lesson 2: Even the Simplest Gifts can be...

Thank you guys for the wonderful reviews. It helps to have support, you know? Okay, I'm not gonna spend a lot of time going on about stuff. Here's Lesson 2!  
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Lesson 2: Even The Simplest Gifts Can Ce Worth The Most.  
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"Hey, Johnny," Ponyboy said, turning off the television and looking at his quiet friend who was sitting on the couch beside him. "Wanna see this new picture that I drew ?"  
  
"Sure," Johnny responded quietly.  
  
The two young teens walked to Ponyboy and Soda's room talking about simple things. Ponyboy walked over to his desk and picked up his sketch pad. He flopped down into his chair and started flipping through the pages.  
  
"Remember that night we were all outside, after Dally got into it with Tim for chucking the brick through his window," Ponyboy asked, not looking up from the pictures on the flipping pages.  
  
"Yeah," Johnny sighed, thinking back to that night.   
  
Dally thrown a brick through a window in Tim Shepard's house. Tim came out of the house, ready for a fight. He'd hit ol' Dallas so hard that he fell down and busted his forehead. Tim had gotten his arm broke, though.  
  
That night, Johnny and Ponyboy had sat outside in the lot with Dally for a while, listening to the whole story in wonder.  
  
"Here it is," Pony said happily, handing the book to Johnny.  
  
Johnny scanned the page carefully. It showed Johnny lying on his back, looking up at Dallas. Dallas was sitting in the grass, one arm resting on a raised knee. He had a smoke in his mouth, just starting to pull it out. He was looking out over the horizon at the fading sun, looking deep in thought. The cut on his forehead looked real tough. Smiling, Johnny looked up at Ponyboy.  
  
"I can't take this from you," he said quietly, his heart pounding in rememberance of that night.  
  
"Take it," Ponyboy urged, putting a hand on his best friend's arm. "I drew it for you. I want you to have it. Think of it as an early birthday present. Happy Birthday, Johnny."  
  
Johnny hugged his friend. This was the best present that anyone had ever given him. But as he hugged Pony, he felt something strange. His skin felt hot and his palms were sweating. What was wrong with him? He'd hugged Ponyboy before and it had never felt like that.  
  
"What's wrong, Johnny," Ponyboy asked, looking into his friend's dark eyes. "Do you feel okay?"  
  
"Not really," Johnny said. He was really confused right now. "Do you think it would be okay if I laid down?"  
  
"Sure thing, buddy." Pony threw back the sheets on his bed and motioned for Johnny to lie down. Johnny kicked off his shoes and curled up on the bed. "Do you mind if I stay in here for a while? I've got an essay due and it's quieter up here than it is down there with those wild Indians we call friends."  
  
"I don't mind," Johnny said. In fact, he hoped that Pony wouldn't leave his sight. Lately, he'd wanted to spend every waking moment with Ponyboy. "You don't mind if I sleep over tonight, do you?"  
  
"Of course not, Johnnycake," Pony said with a friendly smile. "You can sleep there if you want. Soda or I can crash with Darry. G'night, Johhny."  
  
" 'Night, Pony," Johnny replied, yawning. Without another word, Johnny Cade went to sleep right there in Ponyboy's bed, breathing in the scent of his shampoo.  
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	3. Lesson 3: While You Were Sleeping

Okay, I wasn't even planning on doing this for Lesson 3. Heck, I wasn't even planning on doing this at all. It had never even occurred to me. Vampire-Slaying-Greaser-Gal suggested it to me, and my mind just started thinking, "You know, that could be a good idea." So, I did it. Thanks, VSGG, for the idea. And also thank you for the wonderful review. I never knew I had a way with words! ^_^. Anyway, Tashue, you insipired me to do this, so you deserve thanks, also. Thank you VERY much! And Heaven, thank you for being a wonderful, loveable little sister! And thank you to everyone else who has reviewed so far or is ever going to. You know, I'm thinking about doing a whole chapter dedicated to "thank yous" when this story is over. And that's what I'm gonna do. Yup-yup!  
So, here's Lesson 3, all thanks to VSGG, and this story is all thanks to Tashue, and Heaven and all of you people that put up with me! Ya'll deserve a round of applause! ::claps for everyone that was mentioned up there::  
  
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Lesson 3: While You Were Sleeping  
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Ponyboy finally went to bed after finishing his essay. It had seemed to take forever, but in reality, it was only three hours. What's the difference in essay time?  
  
He stripped down to his boxers and his t-shirt and climbed into the bed beside his sleeping friend. Sighing, he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come. But for some reason, on this particular night, it wouldn't.  
  
Deciding to try something else, he rolled over and laid on his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head. He sighed into the white, feather-stuffed sleeping aid, and willed the sleep to take over his weary body.  
  
Johnny rolled over slightly and shivered in his sleep. When Pony looked over, he noticed that the blanket had slipped off of his companion. Gently, so as not to wake the sleeping boy, Ponyboy pulled the blanket back over Johnny and rested his head on Johnny's shoulder lightly.   
  
"Can't sleep, Pony," Johnny asked quietly, startling Ponyboy.  
  
Getting over the shock, the young boy said, "Yeah. Sorry if I woke ya up."  
  
"You didn't," the quiet black-haired greaser assured. "I just got up. Cold?"  
  
"A little."  
  
"It's getting colder lately," remarked Johnny. Pony mummbled quietly in agreement, closing his eyes again. Johnny's quiet voice was just the thing to lull him to sleep. "Go on to sleep, Pony."  
  
Ponyboy opened his mouth to say something, but yawned instead. He blushed slightly, mumbled an apology, then let his heavy eyelids close. Johnny smiled at his best bud and wrapped an arm around Pony, huddling closer to him for warmth.  
  
The young greaser felt Johnny's arms and smiled. For some reason, he was suddenly warmer. He snuggled against Johnny and sighed contentdly. He found a strange wonder in hearing Johnny's heartbeat. It beat in time with his own.  
  
As his mind traced his friend's face, a new feeling welled up inside of Ponyboy, making his heart seem to sing. What was that feeling? He just couldn't place it. Suddenly, it clicked. Something that Soda had said a long time ago had come back to him. Was he... No, that was impossible! Then again....  
  
Was he in love with Johnny Cade...?  
  
Mentally, Ponyboy shook his head. That wasn't even logical. He knew that that wasn't even a possibility. I'm just tired, he told himself. My mind is playing tricks on me.  
  
But even as he went to sleep, doubt still rang in his mind. One question, one serious heart-stopping question, went unanswered to him.  
  
Was he in love with Johnny Cade...?  
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	4. Lesson 4: Rainy Days Can Be Fun!

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Lesson 4: Rainy Days Can Be Fun  
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The guys sat around, bored. The forecast for that day was rainy. It poured down everywhere, drumming rythmically on the roof of the Curits house. It was supposed to be like that all day. And with Darry at work and Dallas roaming around, the number of the group had been cut down to five.  
  
"I'm bored," Two-Bit said. He sat down in front of the television with the last half of chocolate cake and a beer, his eyes glued to the screen as Mickey Mouse danced along it happily.  
  
"We all are," Steve groaned. "How about we do something?"  
  
There was silence for a few moments until Soda finally asked, "What are we gonna do?"  
  
They all looked at each other for a few moments then they all got up and ran out the door.  
  
"Outdoor rainy football," Two-Bit cried happily. "Last one to the lot is a stinkin' soc!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Twenty minutes later, the guys were all soaked through and through but they were having fun. They had split up into two teams and were playing hard.  
  
"GET HIM," Steve shouted at Two-Bit as Ponyboy ran for a touchdown with the ball.  
  
The rusty-sideburned greaser snapped back to attention and ran after Ponyboy, catching him in a running tackle and knocking him to the ground.   
  
"Gotcha," he panted, looking down at Pony.  
  
Suddenly, he was aware of every aspect of the young man's body. The rain plastered his shirt to him, and Two-Bit could see every little curve of his muscles, leaving very little to the imagination. He could see the way that Pony's chest heaved up and down as the young boy panted. He stared into Ponyboy's eyes, losing himself in those imploring orbs.   
  
Pony looked up at Two-Bit, his eyes probing Two-Bit's grey ones. Two-Bit was lying on top of him, causing him to sink slightly into the wet, musy ground. What was Two-Bit staring at? Then he saw the older greaser's eyes rake over his body in a strange way. He suddenly became very selfconscious. His whole face burned a bright pink and he wished to know what the other was thinking.  
  
"Sorry, Pony," Two-Bit breathed huskily. "Did I hurt ya?"  
  
"No," Ponyboy whispered timidly.   
  
Two-Bit nodded and rolled off of his friend. He stood up and helped the youngest Curtis to his feet. What was coming over him lately? What was this feeling, he asked himself silently.  
  
"We win," Soda crowed happily, jumping up and down, hugging Johnny. "You guys owe us soda's for a week!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Steve and Two-Bit grumbled.  
  
The gang walked home, sopping wet and tired. Two-Bit and Steve went to their houses to change, leaving Johnny, Sodapop, and Ponyboy alone in the Curtis household.  
  
"What do you guys wanna do now," Soda asked.  
  
"I don't know," Pony replied.   
  
Getting up, Soda stated,"I'm gonna make us something to eat."  
  
After twenty-five minutes of loud noise in the kitchen and funny smells, Sodapop came out, proudly holding something that Ponyboy suspected was cheesecake, had it not been purple. Johnny got brave and asked Soda what in the world he was trying to feed them.  
  
"It's Pancake Cake," Sodapop declaired. "Can't you tell?"  
  
"Ooh," Ponyboy said slowly. "Yeah, now we can."  
  
"Well, eat up," Soda said, placing the plate of Pancake Cake down on the table.  
  
The two teens looked at each other momentarily before each taking a cautious bite.  
  
"Hey! This is good!" Ponyboy shovled down another mouthful. "How'd it get purple?"  
  
"I don't know," replied his older brother, sitting down and scratching his head thoughtfully. "I guess it was the grape jelly and the mayonnaise."  
  
Two forks clattered down quickly. The two boys looked at Soda. He just smiled back, completely clueless of how gross the thought of grape jelly and mayonnaise was together.  
  
"I think I'm breaking out," Johnny mummbled, scratching his arm. "I'm allergic to mayonnaise..."  
  
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Welup, that's it for Lesson 4. It'd be mean if I ended the story right here, wouldn't it? Yeah, it would. I wouldn't do that, don't worry. Not to this story, anyway. I'm thinking about doing a stupid story about how the church caught on fire and stuff. It'd be a humor and stuff, don't worry. What do you guys think? Let me know. I need opinions! I'm just an elected offical! I can't make decisions by myself! Okay, so I kinda stole that from A Nightmare Before Christmas. So? Wanna sue? You won't get nothin'! You know, at one time, I was thinking about doing an Outsiders story with that movie.... Okay, I know you people want me to shut up, so you're getting your wish. Shutting up now! Later Days, Loyal Readers! Review. 


	5. Lesson 5: Good Luck Charm and Running

Chapter 5 atlast! Sorry for the long wait. I've had such a horrid writer's block, but I should be over it now. I'll have more time to write for awhile. Summer break rules!!! Well, here's the fifth chapter! Hope you like it!  
  
¤. . . . . . .¤ - thoughts  
  
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Lesson 5: Good Luck Charm and Running Away  
  
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"Come on, Pony! Wake up already...," Soda pleaded for the hundredth time, trying to wake up his younger brother. "We're gonna be late for the fair! I knew we shouldn't have let him take a nap..."  
  
Ponyboy stirred, grummbling angrily. He sat up nontheless and looked around sleepily.   
  
On a yawn, he said, "Is it time to go now?"  
  
"Yes," Darry said. "Now get up and do something with your hair, bed head."  
  
After Ponyboy was finished with the small task of fixing his hair, the three walked down the road to the fair grounds. They walked around for a little while, checking everything out, trying to figure out just which rides were the scariest, the fastest, the highest.  
  
"Hey! Over here!"  
  
The three brothers turned at the familiar voice to spot Steve and Two-Bit, waving from their seats at a shooting booth. Soda ran on ahead with Ponyboy while Darry trodded slowly along behind them. Something felt missing in the older greaser's life, but what it was, he couldn't tell.  
  
When Darry got to the booth, the man was chewing out Two-Bit and Steve, who were yelling back quite loudly.   
  
"Ya lousy, good-for-nothin' punks," the man was yelling, "I've done told ya to git outta here, now git!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, we're gittin', we're gittin'," Two-Bit mummbled, cheerfully flipping the man a not-so-nice sign.  
  
For a moment, they all thought the man was going to come after them, so they inconspiciously slipped behind another booth. The man wasn't following them.  
  
"Those games were gyped anyway," Steve assured them, nodding.  
  
"Yeah, but I still got some prizes." Two-Bit pulled his hands out of his pockets, revealing a gold watch, a string of real pearls, twenty-bucks, a weird little toy that looked like a blue duck or something, and a pair of clip-on earrings.  
  
Darry rolled his eyes and said, "The mad shoplifter strikes again..."  
  
"You better believe it," Two-Bit crowed, laughing. "Here ya go, Ponyboy. These go with your eyes!"  
  
Before Ponyboy could ask what he was talking about, Two-Bit had thrown the pearls around Pony's neck and succeded in clipping one of the earrings on one of the young greaser's ear.  
  
"Aw, cut it out," Ponyboy said half-heartedly, pushind Two-Bit's hand away before he could clip on the second earring.  
  
Two-Bit merely shrugged and put the earring on his own ear. He cast a sideways glance at Ponyboy to see what he thought about the gifts. Ponyboy wasn't doing a thing to take them off. This made the rusty-haired greaser smile.  
  
He slipped the gold watch on and then stuck the strange toy in the breast pocket of his black leather jacket with the head sticking out for all to see. He then started strolling around proudly, bowing deeply to people he passed. The gang followed him, looking for Dallas or Johnny.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
At the milk bottle stand, Dallas was racking up on stuffed animals. This was his fifth round and twentyith prize. Concentrating, he swung his arm back and let the ball fly, once more knocking down the challenging milk bottles.  
  
"Here's your prize," the man at the booth grummbled, clearly angry at Dallas for outsmarting the carnie trick. He shoved a giant stuffed bear in front of Dallas.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dally said. He smiled his cruel smile at the man then turned to Johnny, handing him the huge bear. "There ya go, kid. Looks like you're my good luck charm."  
  
"Thanks, Dal," Johnny said, holding the bear tightly. He smiled shyly at Dallas and lowered his eyes. What was wrong with him today? Why was he acting like this around Dallas?  
  
"Lookie here, Soda! It's the bums!"  
  
Dal turned around and playfully swung at Steve as he came up to the two at the milk bottle booth. The others crowded around, chatting happily. The gang was all together.  
  
"So, which rides do we hit," Two-Bit asked gleefully, throwing an arm around Ponyboy's shoulders nonchalantly. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't keep his mind off of the younger greaser nor could he be close enough to Pony. ¤What's wrong with me,¤ Two-Bit asked himself silently. ¤I'm acting like he's some broad or something! Well, he is very pretty. . . No! He's a guy!¤  
  
Darry watched Two-Bit's inner struggle with a worried look. He wondered what Two-Bit was doing that made him look so stern and if there was anything that he could do to help. ¤Maybe if I give him a hug. . .,¤ Darry thought. Then he realized how stupid that sounded and shook his head, a comical smile on his face. ¤I sound like one of those dorks in a department store dressed up like a huge teddy-bear or something.¤  
  
"How about the ferris wheel," Soda asked happily.  
  
"Sure," the rest of the gang agreed. They quickly followed Soda and Steve who were in the lead.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The rest of the day had proceeded as such. The gang didn't leave until the sun had long since gone down. Dallas decided to walk Johnny home that night since he was all alone. For some reason, he didn't want to leave the smaller boy alone.   
  
"Wow, did you see that sunset," Johnny asked in a breathless tone, still mesmerized by the splendor in the setting sun.  
  
"I wasn't really paying attention. I don't recall every seeing one before." Dallas just shrugged it off. What was the point of a sunset to him anyway?  
  
"They're beautiful. You should see one sometime."  
  
"All right," Dallas agreed. For some reason, he could deny Johnny nothing. And that scared him.  
  
"Well, looks like I'm home. . ." Johnny's soft voice was full of dissapointment and gloom as he stood on his front porch. There was no yelling coming from inside so atleast he didn't have to worry about his parents fighting tonight.  
  
Dallas looked up at him from the bottom step. "Yup. See ya later, good luck charm."  
  
On an impulse, Johnny threw his arms around Dallas, hugging him tightly. Dally jumped in surprise but nonetheless hugged the black-haired boy and the huge teddy-bear in return.  
  
"Sorry. But thanks for today. I had fun."  
  
Johnny straightened himself up and clutched the bear to him. Dallas had won this for him and he was darned proud of it! He would cherish the bear for a long time, no matter what anyone ever said about it.  
  
Dallas smiled up at his dark-haired angel then chuckled as Johnny lowered his eyes shyly. He slowly started walking away, his frozen heart almost bursting in joy from that single, loving embrace.  
  
"Good-bye," Johnny sighed and walked in the house. As soon as he turned around, he came face to chest with his father. The older man was dead drunk.  
  
"Who was that," he growled.  
  
Johnny gluped nervously and kept his eyes downcast. "No one. Just a friend."  
  
"You were hugging him. What was that? Are you some kind of faggot or something?!"  
  
The words stung at Johnny's heart. Nothing that the old man had ever called him had hurt that much. And the whole reason that it hurt was because Johnny suspected it was true.  
  
"Answer me, boy!" The man backhanded him, sending Johnny reeling. Johnny yelped as his head hit the wall, his forehead busting and bleeding.  
  
A certain blond greaser heard Johnny's cry and ran back to the house. He kicked the door open just in time to see Johnny's dad kick the small boy in the ribs, causing Johnny to hit his head again.  
  
Rage consumed Dallas as he saw his dark-haired angel being beaten. He flung himself at the older man with no regard for his own safety and began hitting him with all of his might.  
  
Soon, Johnny's dad was on the ground, unconsious and bleeding and Dallas was standing over him with a baseball bat. How he had gotten that, he didn't know. But the old man was bleeding something awful.  
  
"Dallas," Johnny said shakily, uncurling himself from his protective ball, "you saved me. But where's my-- Oh god! You killed him!"  
  
"Good, I hope I did." Dallas wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand then spit on the man. "Come on, Johnny. We gotta get outta here. The fuzz will show up soon. . ."  
  
Dallas jerked Johnny to his feet then dragged the small boy out the door. They ran down the street together, Dallas's hand clapsing Johnny's in a steel grip.  
  
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Well, how was that one? It didn't really all fit into place, but I thought that was kinda all right. I'm crazy, though, so you guys have to be the judges. So, let me know what you think, okay? Later Days, Loyal Readers! Review, Please!  
  
~¤~Angie Marquin~¤~ 


	6. Lesson 6: Sunday Morning

I have returned from The Neverland! Heh, not really... Just finally finding time to stop my horrendous neglect of my work in between the time I spend doing crap for school, doing things with my friends, and hanging around with my love interest (yay boyfriends!). And I must say, it is about time! I apologize to everyone for having to wait on this. And I apologize to the story, too, for neglecting it in such a shameless manner. Do I need to be flogged? Mehbe...

**_Disclaimer:_** I own no one from The Outsiders. That's S. E. Hinton's territory. Special thanks should probably go to Maroon 5 for this chapter. They're awfully inspiring, lemme tell you! So, they get major uber props. Now, on with the story!

**

* * *

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**Lesson 6: Sunday Morning**

Dallas ran Johnny straight to Buck Merril's house with no stops inbetween. Johnny never once looked back, fearing that if he did, his father would be right on their tails, blood all over him and filled with rage, ready to finally kill Johnny. Then the sirens started. There was nothing in the world Johnny feared more than cops. The thought of jail gave him a new burst of energy, and, though his tired legs protested, he managed to keep up with Dallas's pace.

When they finally reached Buck's, the music was blaring in a telltale sign of another wild party. Great... This was just what Dallas needed right now. Drunk Buck who wanted to talk and talk and talk and never show any intention of stopping. He walked right in the front door, hand still clasping Johnny's in a vice grip, and started looking for the lanky cowboy. Damn Merril... Never around when you really needed him...

"Hey, Dal" said a voice behind them.

Dallas turned around. Buck was standing there, shirtless, a beer in hand, his drunken grin plastered on his face. He looked Johnny up and down, dismissed him, then turned his attention to Dallas.

"Buck, we need your car."

"What's the rush? Don't wanna stay around and have some fun?"

Buck stepped closer and attempted to put his arm around Dallas's shoulders. Nonchallantly, the tow-headed greaser shrugged the offending arm off. Buck would not be deterred, though. The arm merely moved around Dallas' waist, pulling him close to the drunken cowboy. Dallas shivered, the bile in his stomach threatening to rise and drown everyone in the room... He hated when Buck touched him... Had always hated it...

"Don't we have fun, Dal...? How about we have some o' that fun now, huh..."

Buck's voice was thick and slurred against Dallas's ear. This only sereved to further repulse him. He wriggled out of Buck's grip, and stepped away. He needed space... He needed his space, away from Buck... Needed it or he would have a freak attack.

"Look, Buck, we need the damn car. Just give over, okay"

Something changed in Buck's eyes. Without warning, he reached out and slapped (lmao, bitch-slapped) Dallas. Dallas was caught off guard, and almost stumbled backwards. He regained his balance, but lost his control. He let Buck have it. All of the pent-up aggression, all of the fear, all of the hurt, anger, frustration, everything he used to fuel his strength.

The only thing that stopped him from killing Buck Merril then and there was Johnny's insistent hands tugging on his shirt, his voice pleading for him to stop. He let Buck fall to the floor and looked into those deep brown eyes full of fear. Tears were running down Johnny's cheeks. Dally grabbed the keys out of Buck's pocket, grabbed Johnny's hand again, and ran out of the house. He ran like hell to that car.

They hopped in, and Dallas tore out of the driveway like a bat out of hell. He knew exactly where he was heading. There was a special place he knew about for circumstances like this. Johnny was shaking in the passenger's seat. His eyes met Dallas's, and the older greaser put a hand on Johnny's knee to reassure him. Gently, he squeezed. Everything was going to be okay... They were going to be fine...

* * *

Ponyboy turned again restlessly in bed. He just couldn't sleep. Something felt off... Wrong... He couldn't explain this feeling that prevented him from resting... He sighed and put his legs over the side of bed. _'A glass of water... That's all I need... Then I'll try to sleep again...'_

He headed down the hallway to the kitchen, careful not to step on that one floorboard that creaked. No reason for Darry or Soda to suffer on account of his insomnia. Two-Bit was passed out on the couch. He resisted the urge to chuckle at the greaser's sprawl and headed on to the kitchen. Glass in hand, he retrieved some water from the tap. It soothed him.

Outside, the stars shone. The window above the sink created such a perfect frame for them... Pony was so wrapped up in artistic thoughts, that he barely noticed a presence behind him until hot hands touched his hips. He jumped in shock, and wheeled around to see Two-Bit.

"Jesus, Two-Bit, gimme a heart attack, why don't ya"

"Sorry, Pony. You were so intent on that window, you didn't hear me call your name..."

There was a strange tone in Two-Bit's voice... Something Ponyboy had never heard before... And those two grey eyes of his seemed cloudy. The kitchen suddenly seemed like an oven, growing ten times hotter and it was way too small. Pony leaned back against the sink to try to distance himself from Two-Bit and figure out what this strange feeling was in the pit of his stomach... Kinda felt like he'd swallowed a thousand and one worms and they were all squirming around, trying to crawl out.

Two-Bit was being driven. Ponyboy looked so desirable under that sink light, and Two-Bit's hormones were his guiding force. It felt so surreal as he reached out and grazed Pony's arm with his hand. Pony shivered and closed his eyes, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. His shivered again as Two-Bit's hands moved to his bare waist, and then further still until they ran above the line of his sweatpants, just below his navel.

The skin that Two-Bit touched was firm and soft. He was quickly becoming addicted to the feel of that skin, those short little gasping noises Pony was making. It sounded as if he was drowning. And he was; he was drowning in the feelings Two-Bit was inflicting on him. One part of him wanted to move closer to those exploring hands, and yet, another part was screaming how wrong this was. _'Are you some kind of queer,'_ that evil little voice yelled._ 'What would everyone at school say if they saw you panting under a guy's touch! You like women. You like women! You! Like! **Women!**'_ That particular voice didn't matter to Ponyboy. Now, his emotions had taken control and they made him lean into Two-Bit. The older greaser was all too happy to return the gesture, and in one electric instant, their lips met. The breath seemed to be sucked right out of Ponyboy. Two-Bit pulled Pony's lean body against his hard, wanting one. There needed to be nothing between them. Nothing at all. And to ensure that this happened, Two-Bit's fingers hooked in the waistband of Pony's sweatpants and began pulling them down with excruating slowness. Pony's heart beat a triple beat at the thought of what was happening.

A noise behind them halted Two-Bit's actions. He stepped away from Pony - reluctantly - just before Soda shuffled into the kitchen. The two watched him grab the choclate milk carton out of the fridge, open it, take a drink, then head back to bed. Two-Bit growled and slouched over the sink, his hands supporting him. Pony was still leaning there, panting. He was thinking a little clearer now, and he realized what he had almost been caught doing.

"I'm gonna... go back to bed now" he whispered.

"All right, Ponyboy." Two-Bit was still slouched over the sink. He was suffering from a major problem he would have to rectify (big word!) once Pony was gone.

Pony went back to his room and climbed back into the bed. Soda was sound asleep again. Now, the lack of liquids in his system wasn't what was keeping him awake...

* * *

Dallas sat on a beat-up couch in the little trailor. This was where a cousin of his lived from time to time. The said cousin was a drifter, and was currently on a road trip to Vegas. Trying to make it big or something like that. So, logically, it was the perfect hide-out. Or the perfect place to take chicks. Either way... Johnny was in the little bathroom, changing into some dry clothes. The sky had opened up and started pouring rain down on them as soon as they'd stepped out of the car, and the little brown-eyed boy had gotten soaked.

Johnny came out of the bathroom then walked straight to the bed. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and pretend that this whole night had never happened. But when he'd pulled back the single sheet on the bed and gotten a look at all of the questionable stains on that mattress, he'd changed his mind about climbing into a bed.

"Dally?"

"Yeah, Johnnycake?"

"Is there anywhere else to sleep? This mattress is... gross..."

Dally came over and had a look for himself. Johnny was right; that mattress had seen better days. In fact, it needed to be taken out and burned. No telling what kind of disease someone would get from that thing...

"Yeah, Johnnycake, we can double up on the couch. It's plenty big enough."

And it was. They laid down facing one another, and Johnny closed his eyes. Dallas looked admiringly over the angelic face. There was something so beautiful about Johnny Cade when he was sleeping. It was simply breathtaking. Then the tears started rolling down those tanned cheeks, and Dallas's heart seized up. Johnny's mere tears turned into a river of tears, then progressed into oceans and heart-breaking sobs. Dallas enveloped Johnny in his arms, holding him close, whispering softly to him. He moved his hands in soft stokes over Johnny's back.

A little known fact about Dallas Winston was that he had a way with horses. He was a horsewhisperer. So, in attempt to calm Johnny down, he tried everything he would do to calm a spooked horse. He made comforting noises near Johnny's ear, moved the strokes from their isolated place on his back to his shoulders and arms, and kept him close. Soon enough, Johnny was calmed down, but instead of stopping his roaming hands, Dallas got more confident, more passionate in his strokes. Johnny was finding it harder to breathe under Dallas's minstrations.

With practiced ease, Dallas had Johnny on his back and was letting his hands run over Johnny's torso. Seeing as how Johnny was shirtless, this wasn't exactly a hard task. Johhny began moving with the caresses. When Dallas's lips sought and found his own, the deal was closed. Right there on that ratty couch with the rain beating down on the metal roof that early Sunday morning in Tulsa, Johnny Cade gave himself wholly and completely to Dallas Winston.

* * *

Ooh, steamy! Later Days! 


End file.
